


Rampant

by snibnoom



Series: End of an Orbit [4]
Category: ASTRO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Drama, M/M, Rebellion, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-08
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-10-24 12:46:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17704514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snibnoom/pseuds/snibnoom
Summary: As the crew of the KCS Ambition delve ever deeper into the secrets of the multi-system corporation known as the Kyklos Syndicate, their chances for running into danger are rampant. Jinwoo needs to keep the crew following orders. Bin needs to keep his eyes on the goal. Sanha needs to prove that he’s as strong as the others. They’ve already broken the rules once and there are plenty of chances to do the same again.





	1. Solar System

Sanha sits up, glancing across the room at Bin and Minhyuk, each asleep in their own beds. Bin is asleep so deeply that he’s snoring. Minhyuk’s leg sticks out from under his blanket. Sanha frowns. Since leaving Mars, he hasn’t been able to sleep through the night. Worries keep him from falling asleep, and nightmares continue to wake him up. Guards chasing him on Titan, punishing his parents, locking him away in jail. Sanha tosses off his blanket and slips out of the room as quiet as he can.

 

The bridge, as expected, is empty. Sanha sits in the pilot’s seat, checking their route. Normally, the flight from Mars to Charon would take less than half a week. On the Ambition, with its old engines pushing as hard as they can, it would still take them almost twice as long. With following Jinwoo’s orders to keep them out of airspace where Kyklos might catch them, a short trip has turned into seven days. Sanha still isn’t sure what they’re going to Charon for. Jinwoo hasn’t shared a lot of details other than saying a fleet leader ordered them to go to the moon of Pluto. He stares at the stars ahead of their ship. Who knows how long they’ll spend on Charon?

 

Sanha’s stomach growls and he looks down sharply. Had he skipped dinner? He must’ve. Sanha fights back a yawn, slow as he drags himself out of the chair and shuffles down the hall with heavy legs. With a much smaller crew, Jinwoo had released them from their rations. Sanha doesn’t have to worry about sticking to a strict calorie intake. His meals have been out of order, at odd times during the day and consisting of odd things. For breakfast, he’d had a spoonful of peanut butter, some crackers, and two bags of dried apples.

 

Sanha stops two steps into the kitchen. The pantry door, locked every night before they retire, is ajar. Myungjun or Jinwoo, maybe?

 

Sanha doesn’t want to scare anybody, so he makes himself known. “Hello?”

 

The door slams shut, and Sanha jumps.

 

“Who’s in there?”

 

Sanha’s nerves are taut. What if the ship is haunted? He never ever signed up to be a ghost exterminator. His older brother had taunted him with legends of ghosts from derelict ships that would haunt any nearby ship. Are they flying through a haunted part of space now?

 

Sanha flips the light on and shoves the door open. With a few bags of dried goods pressed to her chest, Suyeon stares back at him. For a moment Sanha thinks a ghost would’ve made more sense.

 

Before Sanha can speak, Suyeon does. “Don’t tell anybody.” She grabs a granola bar from the shelves. “Go back to bed and let me take the food. I’ll disappear when you land next, and you can forget this ever happened.”

 

Sanha blinks. “How are you here? Were you hiding on the ship this whole time?”

 

Suyeon shushes him. “You’ll wake everybody up.”

 

That’s what Sanha needs to do. He yanks the door shut and twists the lock, taking several steps back as Suyeon bangs on the door.

 

“Sanha! Sanha, don’t make any rash decisions! You know me. You can trust me, right? I won’t tell anybody what I’ve heard you guys say. I’ll disappear.”

 

Sanha shakes his head. “I can’t do that, Suyeon. I have to tell the others.”

 

“Sanha! Damn it, Sanha, don’t do that!”

 

Sanha makes it to the captain’s quarters in record time, yelling Jinwoo’s name as he runs. He throws the door open and his eyes widen. Maybe he should’ve expected to see Jinwoo and Myungjun asleep in each other’s arms. He looks away for a moment, steeling himself, and stalks towards the bed to grab Jinwoo by his shoulder and shake him awake.

 

“Jinwoo, get up. We— Suyeon is on board.”

 

Jinwoo bats his hand away, detaching himself from Myungjun as he sits up. “What’s goin’ on?”

 

“Suyeon somehow managed to stay on the ship. She’s— I think she’s heard a lot of what we’ve said, about the rebellion and stuff.”

 

Jinwoo stares up at him. “What?”

 

Sanha huffs. “I couldn’t sleep so I went to get some food because I skipped dinner”—Jinwoo gives him a concerned look, which he ignores—”and the door was open. You know how we always lock it before so, in case something happens, our food is at least secure in one place. Well, the door was open and Suyeon was in there trying to take food.”

 

“Suyeon. Ji Suyeon.”

 

Sanha groans. Is he speaking in tongues? “Yes, Ji Suyeon. Former communications officer, short, black hair. I locked her in the pantry.”

 

Myungjun finally sits up. “You locked a girl in the pantry?”

 

He isn’t speaking in tongues, but he might as well be. “Just— I’m going to get Bin and Minhyuk up, go to the kitchen. We’ll meet you down there in a little bit.”

 

Jinwoo moves first, sluggishly getting out of bed. Sanha returns to his shared room and pauses. Minhyuk is already shaking Bin awake, his feet in unlaced boots and his Kyklos uniform jacket only half on. As Bin rolls away from Minhyuk with a groan, Minhyuk stands straight.

 

“Bin, seriously.”

 

Bin’s voice is half muffled by his pillow. “If it was important, they would get us. Let me sleep.”

 

Minhyuk pulls his jacket on the rest of the way. The jacket looks good on him, the voice in Sanha’s head unhelpfully supplies. He scratches behind his ear.

 

“It is important,” Sanha says.

 

Minhyuk turns to look at him, tense for a moment before the shock fades out of his eyes. “You scared me,” he says with a gentle smile. He turns back to Bin. “See? Get up, lazy.”

 

Bin sighs, tossing his blankets off with a flourish. “Go, I’ll be there in a bit.”

 

Sanha leaves the room first, Minhyuk close behind him. The night-mode lights in the halls cast a red glow across Minhyuk’s face. Sanha watches him as he descends the ladder. His hair hangs flat over his forehead as he concentrates on the rungs, his tired eyes hidden from Sanha’s view. Sanha is so caught up in watching Minhyuk that he doesn’t register that he’s reached the bottom.

 

“You coming?” Minhyuk stares at him from the bottom. “Don’t fall. We can’t have you twist your ankle again.”

 

Sanha frowns. “That wasn’t my fault. That stupid ship—”

 

Bin pushes Sanha out of the way gently, starting down the ladder. “Too slow, Sanha,” Bin chides.

 

“That’s— Come on!”

 

Sanha follows Bin down, finding that the other has already left towards the kitchen. Minhyuk has waited for him, though, his hands stuck in his jacket pockets. They walk side by side towards the kitchen.

 

“What were you doing awake?” Minhyuk asks.

 

Sanha shrugs. “I woke up.”

 

Minhyuk is quiet for a moment. “You can say nightmare, Sanha. I won’t judge you.”

 

Sanha’s frown returns. He isn’t weak. He can handle a bad dream or two like the others. “It wasn’t a nightmare,” he claims.

 

Minhyuk nods but says nothing else.

 

Sanha can hear Jinwoo’s voice before they reach the kitchen. He stands in front of the pantry door, head bowed.

 

“Says she hid in cargo,” Bin informs them as they enter. “She got some food the first night and came back up again today.”  
  
  


“You said she heard us talking?” Minhyuk asks Sanha. He looks at Jinwoo. “Are we going to tell her?”

 

“You don’t have to say anything,” Suyeon says from within the pantry. “If you ignore me, I’ll forget everything I’ve heard. Drop me off on another planet and let's forget this happened.”

 

“Could leave her on Pluto,” Bin suggests.

 

Jinwoo chews on his bottom lip. Sanha can see the gears turning behind his eyes as he looks between the four of them. He turns back to the door, pressing a hand against it.

 

“Suyeon, I’m going to open the door, but I want us to have a talk. Sit with us at the table and listen to us for a while, okay?” Jinwoo looks at Bin and Minhyuk, mouthing, “Block the doors.”

 

Sanha wrings his hands as Bin and Minhyuk move to either of the two doors that exit the dining hall. Suyeon is quiet.

 

“Suyeon?” Jinwoo asks.

 

“You promise not to hurt me?”

 

“Hurt— Why would you think that?”

 

“She’s heard us talking,” Sanha reminds him. “She probably thinks we’re bad people since we left Mars without clearance.”

 

“We’re not going to hurt you,” Jinwoo says. His fingers wait on the door’s lock. “We’re just going to talk. I promise.”

 

Suyeon is quiet for a much longer moment. Sanha glances nervously at Minhyuk, who raises a hand as if to silently say, “Give her a moment.”

 

“Okay.” Suyeon’s voice shakes. “We can talk.”

 

Jinwoo flips the lock and pushes the door inward. Suyeon emerges, her wide eyes immediately looking to both exits currently blocked by Bin and Minhyuk. She squeezes the bags of dried fruit to her chest and shuffles past Jinwoo to the table. Her eyes focus on Myungjun as she sits.

 

Sanha takes a step forward. “Sorry I locked you in there.”

 

Suyeon looks at him and a bit of the tension in her body fades away. “It’s okay.”

 

Jinwoo takes a seat across from her. “How much exactly have you heard us say?”

 

She stares at the table. “Not too much. Some stuff about a... Fleet leader? And some coded words, probably. It sounded like what you said when that ship opened fire on us near the gate.”

 

Jinwoo nods slowly. “Right, well, we work for an organization.”

 

“Jinwoo—”

 

He glances at Myungjun, and so does Sanha. Though he’s the oldest of them all, Myungjun looks scared. Sanha realizes he’s never seen fear like that in someone.

 

“We shouldn’t say anything.” Myungjun wraps his arms around himself. “How do you know we can trust her?”

 

“I won’t say anything to anybody,” Suyeon says. “I swear. I didn’t mean to be on the ship when you guys took off. I was getting something from my room and—”

 

“Hey, it’s okay.” Jinwoo glances between Suyeon and Myungjun. “We’re all friends here, right? Nobody is going to hurt anybody. Let me explain.”

 

“Kyklos are the bad guys,” Bin says. “They enslave people on moons and force them to work in dangerous conditions and they have their fingers in every bit of crime you could imagine.”

 

Minhyuk sighs from the other side of the room. “Way to break it easy.”

 

“Someone was going to say it eventually.” Bin sticks his hands in his pockets.

 

Suyeon glances between them all, her eyes eventually falling on Sanha. Does she trust him at least? His mom told him once that he has a kind face.

 

“I know it sounds scary,” Sanha says. He moves to sit beside Jinwoo, turning the swiveling chair so he can slide in. “But we have proof. Myungjun and Minhyuk, they grew up on one of those moons and it’s really bad. When we were on Atlas—”

 

“Sanha,” Jinwoo warns.

 

Sanha chooses to ignore him. “—we were there to contact a guy who worked in Kyklos’s intelligence branch. He told us that the new houses being built on Europa, the ones that are supposed to be built for families, are being filled with criminals.” Sanha clenches his fists. “They’re supposed to help people, but instead they’re helping bad people do more bad things.”

 

Suyeon’s eyes slip off of him and focus on Jinwoo. “And you five are trying to stop this?”

 

“Not just us. There are others we work with. Some work undercover for Kyklos, like we did, using our clearance to gather information. That’s what Myungjun did until he got caught.”

 

Suyeon glances at Myungjun. “That’s why you left.”

 

Jinwoo nods. “We had to. And now we’re on our way to Charon to meet up with other people in the organization. Other rebels.”

 

“Rebels.” Suyeon looks down at the food in her arms as her brows pull together. “Do you— I’m sorry, this is a lot.” She looks at Jinwoo again. “Do you have— I don’t know, documents? Photographs?”

 

“That sort of stuff is too dangerous to keep on the ship. All our evidence gets handed off to other rebels with more secure places to keep it.”

 

“You don’t need any evidence like that,” Minhyuk says. “Myungjun and I are proof. If you really wanted to know, he and I could tell you all about the way we grew up in filth.”

 

Sanha swallows. He’s never heard details about life on Helen, but there’s always an edge to Minhyuk’s words when he brings it up.

 

“No, that’s fine. I believe you.” Suyeon sets the food on the table. “I grew up in a state home, and there was a kid from Deimos there. He used to talk about how the security agents treated everybody badly. I brushed it off as nonsense, but—” She looks at Jinwoo seriously. “I want to help.”

 

Sanha stays seated as Jinwoo and Myungjun lead Suyeon to the CTL rooms. Bin mutters something as he drifts off after them. In the quiet left behind, Minhyuk takes the seat to Sanha’s left where Jinwoo had been sitting shortly before.

 

“Are you okay?” Minhyuk leans on the table. “I noticed you got a little into it there.”

 

Sanha nods, unclenching his jaw. “It just makes me mad to think about what they do to people. I grew up believing in Kyklos so much. I never met anybody bad like Cho Minsoo or heard of people being treated badly by security. But while I was having fun at events hosted by Kyklos, you and your family were—” Sanha blows out a deep breath.

 

“There’s nothing you could’ve done anyway. You were a kid. I was a kid.” Minhyuk rubs Sanha’s back gently. “We’re doing something about it now, anyway. That’s what’s important. You can believe in the rebels now. We know we can trust them.”

 

Sanha nods, uncurling his fingers to see the crescents in his palms made by his fingernails. If Minhyuk notices, he doesn’t say so.

 

“It wasn’t all bad, though.”

 

Sanha looks at Minhyuk warily. “You’re joking.”

 

Minhyuk shakes his head. “It was fun, sometimes. I mean, I didn't know any better before I left either. School was kind of optional, so I got into a lot of trouble elsewhere. And sometimes there were street festivals.”

 

Sanha listens intently as Minhyuk recounts his most vivid memory of a street festival. Set up in half an hour and torn down even quicker after the festivities, there were games for kids and prizes to be won by everybody. Snacks were sold by vendors that lined either side of the narrow roads.

 

“It wasn’t all bad,” Minhyuk repeats. “And we’re making it better.”

 


	2. Charon

“Captain Park Jungsoo will be leading your unit and ship until further notice.”

 

Jinwoo stares at the two people across from him. Tara, an older woman with blonde hair tied at the top of her head, stands beside a younger dark-skinned man who hadn’t been given a name. Behind them stands Jungsoo, a Korean man not much taller than Jinwoo, with round eyes and wide lips. This isn’t what Jinwoo had expected. When he’d been directed to bring their ship to Charon, he thought maybe they would get a break. He thought they might be rewarded for getting information out of Cho Minsoo. 

 

Jinwoo clenches his hands tighter behind his back. “I don’t understand.”

 

“You’re young,” Tara says, her foreign words echoed in Korean by the translator in Jinwoo’s ear. “You were the best choice at the time to lead your unit. You were eager and ready to work, and we couldn’t easily fit the lot of you into other EISA units.”

 

Jinwoo grits his teeth. “I don’t understand why I’m being replaced.”

 

“Like I said, you’re young. You’re  _ inexperienced _ . Jungsoo will make an excellent leader for your unit. I never said it would be permanent, but we have reason to doubt your loyalties after the situation on Mars became less than favorable.”

 

_ Myungjun.  _ Jinwoo wants to yell, but he doesn’t. He can’t lash out now if he wants any chance at regaining control. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I have to disagree. I’ve been leading my unit for months now. I know them well enough to say that this change isn’t one that’ll happen easily.”

 

Tara’s brow cocks. “Are you suggesting that your entire  _ unit _ has faulty loyalties?”

 

Jinwoo swears internally. “Not at all, ma’am. We’ve just had a longer time to bond, and we have a way of working on the ship that—”

 

“I’ve heard enough.” Tara motions Jungsoo forward. “All of your duties are to be passed to Jungsoo immediately. I expect you to escort him to your ship when we’re done here and explain the current situation for your team. I want it made very clear to the others on your ship that Jungsoo is captain and that his orders and decisions are to be followed and respected.”

 

Jinwoo bows his head, swallowing. “I understand.”

 

“Trevor, the door, please.”

 

The young man beside Tara goes to the door, pulling it open. Suyeon is pushed forward, and she takes a few stumbling steps before straightening. Her eyes immediately land on Jinwoo.

 

“Captain Jinwoo—” Her eyes fall on Tara. “Hello.”

 

Tara smiles with empty eyes. “Hello, Suyeon. We have some things to discuss.”

 

Jungsoo excuses himself, and Trevor follows him out of the room. Jinwoo is left standing with Suyeon to his right and Tara still where she had been when he entered five minutes ago.

 

“I just want to say that I really admire what you and everybody else are doing,” Suyeon says. “The bravery required to—”

 

“Enough.” Tara’s eyes scan over Suyeon, who stands rigid. “We don’t take well to boot lickers.”

 

“I wasn’t trying to—”

 

“I said  _ enough _ .” Tara glares at Suyeon, her gaze slowly softening as it shifts to Jinwoo. “You were her captain for how many months and you never taught her to keep her mouth shut? Pathetic.”

 

Heat blossoms in Jinwoo’s chest. He just needs to get through this talk, then he can make for the ship and be out of Tara’s eyeline. Silence grows between the three of them as Tara seemingly inspects them for anything she can use as more fodder for insults. When she finds nothing, she finally breaks the silence.

 

“There are rules to being part of us,” Tara says, her words directed at Suyeon. “You’ll need to go through some training and learn some things. Luckily you’re here in person so we can give you the proper training that some people never got, like Jinwoo.”

 

“Whatever you need me to do, I’m ready.” Suyeon holds her shoulders back, and Jinwoo can’t help but think that she’ll end up at a higher rank than he is. She’s more cut out for the rebel life. She takes orders well and doesn’t question the things set before her. Jinwoo might end up on fleet ship under Suyeon’s command some day.

 

“We’ll keep you here on Charon for a while before we send you off with a unit, or maybe put you on a fleet ship. Jinwoo.” Tara nods at the door. “You’re dismissed.”

 

Jinwoo exits the room, watching his feet as he shuffles down the narrow hall. He thought he would be able to take Myungjun to Helen after this. Where would Jungsoo take them now?

 

The hall widens into a dim room with concrete walls, no windows, and furniture that’s falling apart. Jungsoo is reclined beside Trevor on one of the couches as they chat in low voices. Their conversation stops when Jinwoo enters.

 

“Leaving?” Jungsoo asks, sitting up.

 

Jinwoo nods. “I think we’re done here.”

 

Jungsoo says nothing further to Trevor, simply looping a bag over his shoulder and leading Jinwoo out of the dark building and into the bright, artificial light of one of Charon’s enclosed habitats. Much like Atlas, Charon can’t support life like Earth used to or like Mars does. Set into the thick walls of the dome are unnaturally bright lights, not quite the color of a sun. Jinwoo grew up with the warm glow of three suns, almost constantly living in light. What would it have been like to grow up on Charon?

 

As they walk, Jungsoo is quiet. He keeps his hands in the pockets of his worn-out jacket, his eyes straight ahead.

 

Jinwoo chews on his bottom lip. “Are you from Charon?”

 

“No.” Jungsoo doesn’t look at him when he responds.

 

“Well, where are you from, then?”

 

Jungsoo says nothing.

 

Jinwoo sighs. “Look, I know this probably isn’t an ideal situation for you either, but that doesn’t mean you have to be a di—”

 

“Good afternoon.” Jungsoo nods politely at two security officers who pass them, stun guns holstered at their hips.

 

Jinwoo bites his tongue as he does his best to not scream. If the rest of his days are going to be spent with Jungsoo lording over him like an entity with no history, he might just let himself out the airlock once they take off. 

 

“You don’t have to keep secrets,” Jinwoo says, his voice lower. “If we’re going to be working together, we should get to know each other a little at least.”

 

“No point.” Jungsoo turns at an intersection, heading for the ship dock. 

 

Jinwoo, taken aback by the comment and the sudden change in direction, jogs to catch up. “What do you mean, ‘no point’?”

 

“I mean there’s no point in delving into personal information when the likely outcome is that the Syndicate will catch up to you and your friends and toss you in jail. If I told you about myself, it would just be more information you could give up to them that would further upend the delicacy of our organization.”

 

Jinwoo furrows his brows. “Is your real name even Jungsoo?”

 

He doesn’t answer.

 

The ship is quiet when they return. Without the larger crew they’d had for the previous months, Jinwoo almost feels like the captain of a ghost ship—only he isn’t the captain anymore. Jungsoo is.

 

Jinwoo presses a button on the wall, opening the ship-wide intercom. “This is Jinwoo. I need everybody to meet me on the bridge.”

 

There’s no response, but Jinwoo knows they heard him. They’ve always listened to him even if they didn’t agree. Even Bin, who has been cold in Jinwoo’s presence since they left Mars, has followed his orders. If he sets an example by following Jungsoo, then hopefully the rest of them will fall in line, too.

 

Sanha and Minhyuk are already on the bridge when Jinwoo arrives with Jungsoo in tow. They’re focused on the main console, only noticing their arrival when Jungsoo clears his throat.

 

“Hyung, you’re—” Sanha’s brows furrow. “Who are you?”

 

“Your new captain, Park Jungsoo.” Jungsoo’s expression is unreadable.

 

Minhyuk opens his mouth slowly. “Jinwoo, what is he talking about?”

 

Jinwoo sighs. “Wait for Bin and MJ to get here and I’ll explain.”

 

“Explain what?” Bin stops beside Jinwoo, squinting his eyes at Jungsoo. “Who’re you?”

 

“Your new—”

 

“Jinwoo?” Myungjun comes around the other side of Jungsoo, peering between the two of them. “What’s going on?”

 

Jinwoo takes a deep breath. “You all know I went to meet with some of the leaders of the rebels here on Charon. They’re unhappy, to put it lightly.”

 

Bin scoffs.

 

“So they suggested a change in leadership. This”—he gestures to Jungsoo—”is the  _ Ambition’s  _ new captain and the new leader of our unit.”

 

“ _ What?”  _ Myungjun takes several steps away from Jungsoo, eyeing him cautiously. “They can’t do that!”

 

“They can, because they’re your leaders.” Jungsoo looks Myungjun over. “You’re the one they rescued from Mars, aren’t you?” He glances at the others before returning his eyes to Myungjun. 

 

“That’s a conversation I suggest we save for later,” Jinwoo interrupts. “Jungsoo will be heading our operations from now on. He has more experience controlling a ship, and has been with the rebels for longer than most if not all of us have been aware of the Syndicate’s business.”

 

An uneasy silence settles over the bridge. Jinwoo gauges his crew’s reaction—no, not his crew. They’re not  _ his  _ anymore. 

 

“There’s only  _ one  _ captain on this ship, and it’s Jinwoo.” Myungjun folds his arms over his chest. “You might be in charge, but you’re not the captain.”

 

Jungsoo peers at Myungjun with confusion plain on his features. “But—”

 

“I’ll show you where you can set up.” Bin points to the ladder just outside the bridge. “Up that way. Living quarters are top level.”

 

The distraction seems welcome. Jungsoo heads up first, Bin following him. Myungjun turns to Jinwoo immediately.

 

“What the hell, Jinwoo?” Myungjun pushes his fingers through his now-short hair. “They can’t do this!”

 

“They already have. I’m not in charge anymore.”

 

Jinwoo tilts his head back, looking at the ceiling of the bridge. There are going to be many battles in the coming weeks and months as he and the others adjust to life working solely for the rebels. This is one not worth fighting.


	3. Charon

Bin drums his fingers on his thigh as he waits. In his short time with the rebellion and even fewer experiences in the places they call home, it’s all been roughly the same; dimly lit, deteriorating buildings stuffed to the brim with people who, once upon a time, would’ve never glanced at each other. Bin has spoken with only a handful of rebels outside those of the crew of the  _ Ambition.  _ He can’t say if that’s a good thing or not.

 

This particular building is as close to the outer wall of the enclosure as it could get. It hadn’t been hard to miss as Bin had walked towards it with the artificial light fading towards evening. Is it a requirement that all rebellion strongholds be isolated? He’d been escorted in by a middle-aged, red-headed woman and led down the hall by an elderly man with striking blue eyes. The man left him in a room with no windows and a single chair at a lopsided table. Fifteen minutes have passed. Jinwoo hadn’t told Bin why he needed to come here, only that he was requested and refusing the request would be seen as yet another act of faulty loyalties.

 

_ Fault loyalties.  _ The words ring in Bin’s head like an out of tune note. They’d all done their part up until now, with the exception of breaking protocol to get Myungjun off Mars. And roughing up Cho Minsoo hadn’t been a good idea, either, but he’d deserved it.

 

The door swings open, an older Korean gentleman entering. Bin can’t make out the details of his face, but he wears a heavy, brown leather jacket with bright red stitching. He says nothing as he crosses the room and sets a case on the table before Bin.

 

“My name is Doyun,” the man says, his words clipped and warped by a dialect Bin isn’t familiar with. “And you’re Moon Bin.” 

 

His eyes scan over Bin slowly. The lack of warmth in his eyes makes a curl of cold creep up Bin’s spine. It’s the same feeling he used to get when sitting through horror animations with his friends from school, or when he had a bad grade he knew his parents would see—part fear, part embarrassment.

 

“I’m one of the leaders here on Charon,” Doyun continues. “As you know, we’ve had relatively good success with keeping our operation running here.”

 

Bin had heard from Jinwoo. The rebellion operates only partially in secret, but the Kyklos-loyal security stationed on the moon do nothing to repress it unless they’re too public. “Yeah,” Bin mumbles. “How do you manage that anyway?”

 

Doyun ignores his question. “There is a network of us across the system responsible for monitoring and judging the loyalty of those within units. You and your unit have fallen onto the red side of our meter.” Doyun meets his gaze. “That’s bad.”

 

Bin bites his tongue. This isn’t a situation where he should be speaking freely, though Doyun’s aura ignites Bin’s fight or flight mechanism. His current instinct?  _ Fight. _

 

Doyun flips open the case, sliding it closer for Bin to see. The black metal is dull. Scrapes cover the muzzle in a dozen different directions and the grip is worn, but it’s instantly recognizable.

 

“Scared?” Doyun pulls the gun out of the case, holding it so casually that Bin almost thinks it makes sense, but it doesn’t. “We have these for emergencies. Stand up so I can teach you how to use it.”

 

Bin spends the next two hours learning everything from how to aim to cleaning the gun. His hands shake at first, nerves making his palms sweat. As Doyun instructs him in his flat voice, Bin grows more comfortable as the dark pit in his stomach expands. He shouldn’t feel comfortable around a weapon like this. He shouldn’t be anywhere near a weapon like this. Bin had gotten the talk like the rest of their unit (aside from Sanha). If something were to go wrong and he was caught, he was supposed to take his own life to protect the rebellion. Jinwoo had provided Bin with a pill that Bin has kept on his person ever since, but never until now had he realized how serious the rebellion is about what it says.

 

But to have a  _ gun.  _ Bin wants every second to toss the gun to the other side of the room, to run down the hall and out across the open field between this building and the main city. A sentiment repeats in his head like a skipping record. 

 

_ This is wrong. This is wrong. This is wrong. This is wrong. _

 

Satisfied that Bin has learned enough about the gun and safety, Doyun guides Bin outside the building. The grass has faded away to dirt and sand this close to the outer edge of the habitat. Only the faint light coming from inside the building lights the area around it. Bin holds the magazine in one hand, a suppressor in the other. 

 

“You’re going to shoot it.” Doyun takes the magazine from Bin, putting the gun in his hand. He gestures away from the building. “That direction.”

 

“I— What?” Bin swallows, glancing between the gun and Doyun. “What?” he repeats.

 

“Now.” Doyun’s voice is cold, pushing Bin into action.

 

With the gun assembled and the suppressor attached to the end, Bin aims as Doyun said to. His finger hesitates over the trigger as his ears strain to hear anybody nearby as an excuse to not fire.

 

“We don’t have all night.”

 

Bin squeezes the trigger. Within a second, the gun jerks in his grasp and a sound, albeit much quieter than it would’ve been without the suppressor, echoes in Bin’s chest. He gasps, tightening his fingers around the grip as he removes his finger from the trigger.

 

“Good.” Doyun crosses his arms. “Again.”

 

Bin empties the magazine into the distance, shot after shot, taking a moment to reorient himself as Doyun inspects every minute reaction. A sour taste works its way up Bin’s throat with each discharge. This isn’t right and he knows it but if he refuses it would cause even more trouble for them. Jinwoo has already been replaced as captain and they’ve been temporarily grounded on Charon. The longer they wait around, the longer Kyklos has to announce them as the fugitives they are. 

 

Bin shoves the gun into Doyun’s hands, taking several quick steps away. “I’m done,” he breathes, his throat scratchy. “No more.”

 

Doyun’s hold of the gun is relaxed. Bin swallows. Doyun could shoot him right now and nobody would know. What’s the need for secrecy, anyway? If the rebellion is trying to take down the monopoly that is Kyklos, why aren’t they more vocal about it? He would march right up to a board director and punch them in the face if it meant he didn’t have to hold that gun for another second. 

 

Doyun considers him for a second before holding the gun out to him, grip first. “No, you’re not. Refill the magazine.”

 

Bin takes the gun from Doyun and does so quickly and quietly, fishing the ammunition out of his pocket where he’d been told to stick it earlier. Reloaded, he double checks that the safety is on and holds the gun towards Doyun.

 

Doyun lifts the gun in Bin’s grasp, pointing it directly at himself and taking the single step needed for it to push into his chest. Bin tries to pull it away, but Doyun holds it firmly in place.

 

“We have more than a few reasons to believe you’re not loyal to the rebellion anymore. This gun is a show of good faith on our side, so we need you to prove that you’re worthy of it. There will come a time where you’ll have to use this gun. You know what you have to do.”

 

Bin holds his breath, his finger as far from the trigger as it can be. A flash of doubt passes Bin’s mind. What if he’s on the wrong side by fighting with the rebellion? What if Kyklos are the good guys and the rebellion is framing them? He’s never seen anything particularly bad with his own eyes.

 

Minhyuk has, though. Myungjun has. Most of the people in this outpost probably have. Bin lived a sheltered life until he met Jinwoo. His biggest worry was passing the exams to be let into the program.

 

“Take the gun back to your ship with you.” Doyun drops his hand, and Bin immediately moves the gun away from his chest. “Keep it somewhere safe, but somewhere you can get to quick.”

 

“Just— Am I supposed to just carry it back?”

 

Doyun rolls his eyes, the first evidence of any kind of personality that Bin has seen. “Take the suppressor off. Put it in your pocket. Stick the gun in your waistband and hide it with your jacket. Think before you speak.”

 

Bin’s heart races as he makes his way back to the ship, down the winding roads of the city. The gun is hard against his lower back. There are hardly any people on the streets this late so every person that  _ is _ out follows Bin with their eyes for several seconds. He forces himself to walk slowly, to keep his posture relaxed. He gives a polite nod to a security officer guarding a building with laughter spilling out from inside.

 

Bin approaches the outer edge of the landing yard with breath stuck in his throat. The  _ Ambition  _ is one of three ships parked just outside the wall, accessible only through the tunnel that’ll protect him from the unsurvivable natural climate of Charon. Bin checks for the hundredth time that his jacket is still covering the gun in his waistband before proceeding down the hall and into the entry room of the ship.

 

He has a gun on the ship. A deadly weapon is stuck in the waistband of his pants, digging into his spine. Doubt creeps into his thoughts. He’s on the right side, isn’t he? Growing up, he never had an opinion on Kyklos. His parents never expressed distaste with their operation. Mars was where Kyklos was born, where they had started their grab for power and flourished. They have their dirty money floating in the bank accounts of every government official as they hide criminals and mass murderers to manipulate for their own material gain. They have to be on the right side. What if there isn’t a right side?

 

Bin opens the closest crate to the cargo entrance and drops the gun inside. It almost looks fake surrounded by the electrical components. Bin drops the crate cover, heads up the ladder to his shared room, and falls into bed. Sleep comes fast, carrying Bin away from his worries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [@snibwrites on Twitter](https://twitter.com/snibwrites)


	4. Charon

“You’re not twisting hard enough. You have to get up over it, like  _ this _ —”

 

Sanha sighs as Minhyuk bumps him out of the way, pushing down on the tool to crank it. The muscles in his arms bulge and Sanha averts his eyes before the annoying voice in the back of his head can make a comment.

  
“You didn’t have to do it for me,” Sanha huffs. “I could’ve done that.”

 

Minhyuk nods. “I know. Sometimes it’s just easier if I do stuff.”

 

Sanha leans against the opposite wall, the metal hot even through his jacket. Everything in the engine room is hot to the touch. He slides a thumb over his middle finger, wincing at the burn. 

 

Minhyuk notices. He notices everything. “Are you okay?”

 

“Fine.”

 

“San, if something’s wrong, you need to tell me. Or someone, at least. We’re not protected by the Syndicate anymore so we need to learn to rely on each other more.”

 

“I get it, alright?” Sanha pushes past Minhyuk, exiting the engine room as quickly as he can. 

 

Minhyuk is quick to follow him. “Get what? What am I missing?”

 

“I can handle myself.” Sanha crosses his arms. “I don’t need you or the others to keep watching after me. Jinwoo won’t let me leave the ship. Bin keeps avoiding answering my questions. Jungsoo avoids me. MJ even mentioned that he was given a talk on what to do if Kyklos caught him, but I never had that talk.” He knows it’s ridiculous. He doesn’t really  _ need  _ to know, but the frustration boiling inside him has finally burst. “And you didn’t give me enough time to try and undo that panel.”

 

Minhyuk frowns. “We’re just trying to keep each other safe.”

 

“But you shouldn’t be keeping secrets from the rest of the crew! Especially not if it’s helpful.” Sanha tightens his hands into fists, wincing and immediately releasing his fingers from his palms as the burn stings again.

 

The previous topic is abandoned. Minhyuk grabs his wrist, his frown deepening upon noticing the burn. “Were you going to patch this up right now?”

 

Sanha hadn’t really had a plan on where he was going. He just wanted to think, to yell a little, to maybe punch a wall. He’d never punched a wall but he saw Jinwoo do it a few nights ago and it seemed to make him feel better.

 

“I’m sorry that you feel like we don’t tell you enough,” Minhyuk says. His fingers are warm around Sanha’s wrist. “I’ll try to be better about it, okay?”

 

Sanha nods. That’s a start.

 

“Do you want me to help you with your finger?”

 

Sanha looks at Minhyuk, at his round eyes and his upturned nose and his soft-looking lips. Any fight left in him evaporates. “Yes, please,” he mumbles.

 

The med bay, like the rest of the ship, is quiet. Jinwoo and Bin have been off the ship for days. Myungjun has taken to staying on the bridge or, when someone else is near, disappearing into the captain’s quarters. Jungsoo wanders the ship occasionally, but Sanha isn’t sure where usually is. Sanha hasn’t seen Suyeon since they landed.

 

“Really should get Bin to look at your finger,” Minhyuk mumbles as he grabs a few items.

 

Sanha leans against one of the bare beds. “I don’t need him to tell me it’s not a bad burn. He’s not the only one that had to go through medical training.”

 

Minhyuk cracks a smile. “But he  _ is  _ the most studied. That makes him the best.” He stops in front of Sanha, holding his hand out. “Let me see it.”

 

Warmth spreads through Sanha’s body as he places his hand in Minhyuk’s. Sanha’s hands have always been smooth, but Minhyuk’s skin is rough in places from handling the heavy tools associated with his job on board the  _ Ambition.  _ His hands are gentle, too. He applies the cold compress around Sanha’s finger and tucks the end in to keep it in place. His fingers slip between Sanha’s until their palms are pressed together and Sanha’s cheeks burn hotter than the engine room.

 

Minhyuk brings Sanha’s hand close to his face, and kisses his finger just below the compress. “Now it’ll get better faster,” Minhyuk says. “A, uh, a kiss always makes things better.” His expression shifts, a sadness Sanha had never seen before springing up in Minhyuk’s eyes. “My brother always used to demand I give his finger or arm or wherever a kiss when he got hurt.”

 

Sanha runs his thumb along Minhyuk’s. “Were you and he close?”

 

“Yeah. Junggeon and I”—he smiles sadly—”used to get into trouble sometimes, especially after Myungjun left. I wasn’t always the best older brother, but after Myungjun left, I realized how important that had been to me. I mean, to have an older brother figure like that.” 

 

Sanha squeezes Minhyuk’s hand, and the other meets his gaze. His eyes, impossibly dark and frustratingly captivating, swim with a mix of emotions.

 

“I’m the youngest,” Sanha says. “Sometimes, especially when my brothers started to get older, they wouldn’t really be around a lot, but I knew they still loved me. I’m sure your brother thought the same.”

 

Minhyuk nods a little. His eyes shift to their hands and Sanha watches as a smile makes a dimple appear in Minhyuk’s cheek. He wants to kiss that dimple.

 

“Myungjun was like my older brother when we were on Helen.” Minhyuk’s thumb runs along Sanha’s, and needles race up Sanha’s arm. “I didn’t always get along with the other kids my age, but I met Myungjun on the streets and he didn’t care that I was quiet. He stood up for me, too, when the other kids were mean to me.”

 

Minhyuk was bullied on Helen. Sanha’s heart cracks. Why would anybody ever bully someone like Minhyuk? He’s sweet and kind and caring and compassionate and  _ handsome,  _ with his sharp cheekbones and strong jaw. 

 

“And then Myungjun left.” Minhyuk furrows his brows. “He told me he was leaving to work for the Syndicate and I couldn’t understand why he had to go. Nobody spoke about the rebels openly, and Myungjun didn’t tell me he was planning to join them. His parents were actually part of the rebels, too. I still don’t really know if he was involved with them for a long time or not.”

 

“I’m sure he didn’t  _ want  _ to leave you,” Sanha says. “Sometimes things just have to be done. And he probably didn’t tell you about the rebels because he was trying to protect you. Just like you’re trying to protect me now.”

 

Minhyuk brightens, the shine of his smile appearing in his eyes before it comes to his lips. “Does that mean you’re not mad at me for being protective?”

 

Sanha shakes his head. “Just frustrated, but I guess I get why.” He pauses. “Though I really could’ve gotten that panel open in the engine room if you’d have given me five more seconds.”

 

Minhyuk ducks his head. “I know. I’m sorry. I won’t do that again, okay?”

 

Sanha waits patiently as Minhyuk finishes patching up his finger. The stinging of the burn has subsided, and the red skin has turned pink. As Minhyuk secures the bandage around Sanha’s finger, there’s a burst of static from the on-ship communication system. Jungsoo’s voice fills the infirmary.

 

“Prep the ship for launch. We leave in one hour.”

 

——————

 

Bin leans his head back as the ship jerks, lifting off the landing platform and beginning to rise through Charon’s non-existent atmosphere. For a moment, his chest stings where the thick strap bites into his body. Another day, another launch, and another day he’s unable to speak with Dongmin. Does Dongmin think about him, too? Bin wouldn’t blame him if he doesn’t. He has a boyfriend, a secure life—Dongmin probably doesn’t think about him.

 

Myungjun coughs in the set of seats behind him. He’s not familiar with the pull of the restraints, but the others are. Even Sanha, with his thin frame, makes no noise. They’d all been through the simulations. Instructors taught them how to strap in, how tight to pull it, and then the machine had jolted them forward. Bin had thought he was going to be cut in half the first time he sat through that class. 

 

“—aren’t going to Helen.” Bin glances at Jungsoo, sitting stiff in the captain’s seat centered between the consoles. “Sanha, set us on course to the Virgo Alpha system.”

 

Virgo Alpha? Bin isn’t the most familiar with the star systems, but he knows Virgo Alpha is one of the farthest inhabited systems, nearly 30 light years from Mars. Jungsoo hadn’t told them much, but Bin assumes there’s a larger base of operations for the rebels in the Virgo Alpha system, far from the hands of Kyklos. 

 

“My parents are with the rebellion!” Myungjun yells. “We should be  _ helping  _ the people who have the same goals as us, not leaving them stranded in a place like—”

 

Bin can hear the venom in Jungsoo’s words. “Mention Helen again and I’ll lock you in the communal showers for the rest of the trip.”

 

“But what if they can help us?” Myungjun continues. “What if they know something that’s useful?”

 

Minhyuk meets Bin’s eyes from across the bridge for a split second before returning his attention to the computer before him. “I second locking him in the showers.”

 

The ship makes a familiar sound as Sanha locks the engines into cruising speed. Bin reaches for his restraints, but the continuing argument gives him pause.

 

“The situation is unavoidable at this point,” Jinwoo says, “and I truly believe there may be useful information to be found on Helen. If not from Myungjun’s parents, then from the locals. If we can gather more proof of the mistreatment of people on unrecognized moons—”

 

“If you had stuck to protocol, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” Jungsoo slips out of his restraints and stands, staring down Myungjun and Jinwoo. “Both of you failed to do as you were taught, and yet you continue to defy orders and beg for different decisions. The rebellion is giving you a second chance. Helen isn’t where we’re supposed to go, and as long as I’m captain of this ship, we follow orders.”

 

Bin clenches his jaw. He doesn’t like Jungsoo, but he finds it hard to disagree. Any more mistakes and the rebels might consider them turncoats and hand them over to the authorities.

 

“But—”

 

“That is  _ enough _ , Jinwoo.” Jungsoo heads toward the exit of the bridge. “You bring this up again, and I will see to it that your days with the rebels are finished.”

 

Silence hangs over the bridge like a heavy blanket. Minhyuk has turned to Sanha, the two of them sitting in the dual pilot’s seats. Bin unstraps himself from the seat and leans around the back of it, peering at Jinwoo and Myungjun now standing quite close to each other.

 

“That was a dumb move, Jinwoo,” Bin says.

 

Jinwoo looks away from Myungjun, at Bin, with a scowl. 

 

“We’re already on thin ice and you just tossed an armed bomb into the mix.” Bin stands from his chair. “Nobody likes Jungsoo being captain, but we need to keep ourselves under control.”

 

Myungjun opens his mouth, but Jinwoo beats him to it. 

 

“You’re right,” Jinwoo says. “We’ll do what we’re told, for now, but I’m not leaving Myungjun’s parents on Helen. None of us know how much worse the situation might be since he or Minhyuk was last there.”

 

Bin bites his tongue. For Minhyuk’s sake, they can’t return to Helen. He knows there’s more to the story than the younger told him, but the simple facts are just that—simple. Minhyuk is the reason why Myungjun’s parents aren’t on Helen anymore. He did what he had to to save himself. Their already unsteady footing as a crew will only become more difficult to navigate if the truth comes out.

 

And yet he can’t deny that things on Helen are bad. There is little information that comes from Helen and other unrecognized moons, like Deimos that orbits Mars, but even the reports from Kyklos are gloomy. Bin wouldn’t want to leave anybody on a place like that, but Myungjun’s parents are no longer there. They’re in a prison somewhere, probably, guarded day and night. 

 

“Until the rebels trust us, we shouldn’t do anything they don’t tell us to.” Bin avoids looking Myungjun in the eyes. “I’m gonna go take a nap.”

 

The unstable stability of Bin’s life is degrading. In the room he’s shared with Minhyuk and Sanha for months now, he presses a button recessed into the wall. The thick metal cover over the window scrapes as it slides open, revealing the stars. Somewhere among those stars is Dongmin, probably laughing, probably with Seunghwan at his side. Bin ignores the sour taste in his mouth. He’s doing what he has to, isn’t he? Lying, cheating, hiding a gun amongst the useless cargo in the bowels of the ship—it’s what he’s  _ supposed _ to do, isn’t it?


	5. Virgo Alpha System

Bin glances down the hall for the third time in ten seconds. Jinwoo’s orders from their initial departure from Mars have held up during Jungsoo’s reign; the  _ Ambition’s  _ communications have been offline for a week and a half. But Bin is eager. Sleep has refused to come to him for a week as thoughts of Dongmin plague him—thoughts of Dongmin’s laugh, of the smoothness of his lips, of his smile and the way he waves his hands when he can’t think of what he’s trying to say, of his gasps of pleasure in the night they’d had together alone on Mars. When he does sleep, Dongmin is even in his dreams. His only hope for a reprieve is to see Dongmin again. Bin taps Dongmin’s ID into the computer in the hall and steps into the room, shutting the door behind himself.

 

Dongmin must answer the call as soon as he gets it. The other side of the room comes to life with quick lasers and Dongmin appears before him. Bin bites back his smile and reminds himself that, as badly as he wants to, he can’t go pull Dongmin into a hug.

 

Dongmin’s smile matches his own. “Hey.”

 

Kyklos must not have announced them as fugitives yet if Dongmin is so happy to see him. A weight falls off Bin’s chest. “Sorry I didn’t call earlier.” Bin ducks his head, wringing his hands in front of him. “We’ve been pretty busy on our side, but, uh”—he smiles at Dongmin—”I called to check in with you, not to talk about myself.”

 

“Well, I’d like to hear you talk about yourself.” Dongmin rubs the back of his neck. “Nothing here has been overly interesting. I’ve been studying a lot, mostly. I started the job working with Kyklos. I’m a ship inspector.”

 

Bin raises a brow. “A ship inspector? I assume you mean cargo ships.”

 

Dongmin nods. “Yeah, there’s a lot of stuff I have to memorize. Well, I guess I don’t have to memorize it but I need to be familiar with the layout of ships so I can navigate on my own when I board. I was actually on a ship like yours, I think, a few days ago—a repurposed fighter ship. You told me it was small but I guess I didn’t realize how small.”

 

Bin laughs a little. “Yeah, it gets pretty cramped. Even worse when we have excess cargo or a bigger crew. When I was going through training, we had a simulated flight week. I spent seven days inside a ship on the surface with thirteen other students.”

 

“Thirteen?” Dongmin shakes his head. “I can’t imagine. That should be illegal. The bigger ships could probably handle that, but a small one—” He shakes his head again. “I’m just glad my dad didn’t set me up with an engineer position or something.”

 

“Yeah, our ship engineer complains about it a lot. We don’t have a full crew, so he has to do a lot of two person jobs on his own.”

 

Dongmin nods slowly, his eyes drifting to the floor. “You’re gonna be gone for a while again, aren’t you?” he asks, his voice soft.

 

Bin’s chest tightens painfully. “I really don’t know this time.” He shuffles forward, a step closer to the line in the center of the room. “We’re in a bit of a mess, and I wish I had an answer for you, Dongmin, but I don’t. If it was up to me, I’d turn this ship around and fly right back to you because I miss you.”

 

Dongmin looks up at him quickly, confusion in his eyes. “Bin—”

 

The CTL room door flies open, Sanha stepping in. “Bin, we need you on the bridge. There’s something weird going on with the ship systems. Power generation is down.”

 

“What?” Bin glances between Sanha’s rushed expression and Dongmin’s worried one. “Dongmin, I gotta go. I’ll call you back as soon as”—Dongmin’s form across the room flickers out of existence as the CTL system shuts off—”I can.”

 

“I  _ told  _ you,” Sanha complains. “We need to get to the bridge.”

 

Bin reaches the bridge with Sanha in record time. Myungjun, Jinwoo, and Jungsoo are huddled around one of the computer decks, Minhyuk standing close as he bites his thumb. 

 

“I don’t  _ know  _ what it is!” Myungjun yells, staring up at Jungsoo. “If I did, I would know how to get rid of it.”

 

“Jun, it’s okay.” Jinwoo places a hand on Myungjun’s shoulder. “Nobody’s blaming you.”

 

“ _ He  _ is!” Myungjun gestures at Jungsoo. “He thinks I have something to do with this, I know it! He hasn’t given any of us the benefit of the doubt since he got on this ship and—”   
  


Bin interrupts Myungjun’s tirade. “What’s going on? What don’t you know?”

 

Myungjun turns in the seat, seeing him for the first time. His eyes are wide, brows furrowed, and his hands are in fists. “Did you turn on the communications system?”

 

Bin hesitates. “Yeah?”

 

Myungjun shakes his head and faces the computer again. 

 

Jinwoo sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. “We said to  _ not  _ do that, Bin. What were you thinking? You’re the one who said we need to follow orders, and now you’re breaking them?”

 

“I don’t—what’s the big deal?” Bin walks closer to the computer, peering at the system list. Long distance communication and power generation are highlighted in red. “Why are the systems down?”

 

Jungsoo leans against the desk on the side, crossing his arms. “I’ll assume you recall that Myungjun found a file embedded in the ship’s flight logs before we took off from Charon. It appears the file was malicious. It was activated when you turned on communications and has spread to primary systems.” He glances at Myungjun then at Bin. “The virus is shutting down the ship, and we can’t seem to halt it.”

 

The computer dings and Bin glances at it quickly.  _ FTL systems offline.  _ Jinwoo swears as another notification pops up with a ding.  _ EHT systems offline.  _

 

“Are we stranded?” Sanha asks. “Are our engines still working?”

 

“Engines are still working,” Minhyuk says. “You can hear ‘em. Listen.”

 

Bin holds his breath. The low, familiar roar of the engines still hums along with the life support system. 

 

Jungsoo stands upright. “Myungjun, open a broadcast channel on the rebel’s frequency. We should be in range for the transmission to be picked up by the base on Confucius. We can signal them and let them know our situation so they can send a ship and hopefully meet us halfway in the case that more systems continue to fail.”

 

“More systems?” Bin frowns. If the virus only attacks primary systems, Bin is fairly sure the only ones left are engines and life support. How had a file like this gotten on their server?

 

“Broadcast channel open,” Myungjun says.

 

“This is Captain Park Jungsoo of the  _ Ambition,”  _ Jungsoo begins, his voice broadcasted by the ship to anybody who might be in range listening on the same frequency. “Clearance code Romeo-Uniform-Lima. The  _ Ambition  _ is experiencing failure of primary systems. Requesting ship interception and transportation.”

 

Bin folds his arms over his chest. If the rebels don’t show up to help them, he wouldn’t be surprised.  _ Every man for themselves. Remember your training.  _ Bin has never agreed with the rebellion in that sense.

 

Jungsoo switches off the broadcast and bends to look at the computer. “With power generation down, it’s only a matter of time before the rest of the systems, primary  _ and  _ secondary, start to fail. That’s if the virus isn’t anywhere else.”

 

Bin sits in a chair, leaning so that his elbows are on his knees. “That means life support, too, doesn’t it?”

 

Jungsoo nods. “Eventually, yes. Myungjun, are the rest of the systems clean?”

 

“I’m not sure, uh—” Myungjun falls quiet as he opens systems and checks the files. “There’s—the virus is in the engine systems, too.”

 

“In the engine systems?” Jungsoo asks. “Can you get a look at it? It’s obviously some sort of code.”

 

“I  _ know  _ that,” Myungjun snaps. “Can you stop hovering? Go do something useful instead of breathing down my back.”

 

“Myungjun—” Jinwoo stops short when Myungjun glares at him.

 

Across the room, Sanha and Minhyuk stand close. Minhyuk still bites his nails, but his free hand is clasped with Sanha’s. Bin feels a pang of jealousy in his chest; he should be back on Mars right now, holding Dongmin’s hand like that. Hopefully, Dongmin isn’t worrying. Hopefully, the sudden interruption of their call hasn’t caused him to panic.

 

“Fuel dump.” Myungjun types quickly on the computer. “The virus is a fuel dump. It’s locked the engines into a long burn and there’s a fuel dump to be triggered when—” 

 

He falls quiet and Bin watches as folders open on the screen. Myungjun swears under his breath, his fingers flying over the keyboard.

 

“What’s wrong?” Minhyuk takes a short step towards Myungjun. “Did something happen?”

 

Myungjun doesn’t say anything, so Jungsoo fills the silence. “Does anybody know how something like this would’ve gotten onto the ship systems?”

 

Jinwoo stands up straighter. “When we left Juno, we took a Syndicate director with us, Choi Hyunggeun. I found him on the bridge poking around on the ship logs. I didn’t think anything of it, but he said he got remote access. He might be responsible.”

 

“Damn it!” Myungjun leans back in the chair. “The virus is in life support.” 

 

“W-what?” Sanha stammers. “Can you stop it?”

 

“If I’m fast enough, I can maybe stop it.” Myungjun pushes a hand through his hair, though it hardly makes a difference with his new short cut. He seems to realize and drops his hand quickly before continuing. “I can delay it at least. With power generation off, we’ll still only have half a day until life support fails, but that’ll be long enough for the rebellion to send a ship. If the virus shuts it down now—”

 

Nobody has to say it. If life support shuts down now, the rebellion won’t arrive in time. Not if they send a standard ship, at least, and not if they stay out of EHT like they’re supposed to in a system. If life support fails, they’ll only have enough oxygen for a few hours. They’ll suffocate.

 

They’ll die.

 

Despite the worries in his heart, only one thought strikes Bin as important. He may never see Dongmin again.

 

———

 

“I can’t.” Myungjun leans away from the keyboard. “I can’t do it, Jinwoo. The program is too advanced, too  _ smart.  _ Every new code I write to reroute the virus gets overridden. I knew the Syndicate was developing its own self-replicating code, but this—”

 

Jinwoo leans over his seat. “That’s it?”

 

Myungjun traces a few lines of code on the screen. “That yellow code is the virus. I highlighted it so I could try and work against it, but it’s too fast.”

 

Jinwoo watches the screen for a moment. The code shifts and grows, an additional line springing into existence. Worry has been growing in his stomach for the last three hours and now it seeps into all his limbs. 

 

Myungjun stands from his chair, taking several steps away from the monitor. “I’m useless. I can’t even stop some stupid code, and now—“

 

“Hey, no.” Jinwoo rushes to Myungjun’s side, grabbing both his hands. “You are _ not _ useless. Don’t ever say that.”

 

Myungjun chews on his bottom lip. “We’re going to die, Jinwoo, and I can’t stop it.”

 

Jinwoo wraps his arms tightly around Myungjun. “You did your best, Jun. It’s gonna be okay.”

 

“It’s  _ not.”  _ Myungjun’s body shudders. “We’re going to lose life support and the engine is going to dump the fuel and we’re—”

 

“We have suits.” Jinwoo eyes the built-in closet in the corner of the bridge. “We’ll get off here, okay?”

 

Jinwoo hugs Myungjun for a long time, silence growing on the bridge. When the computer beeps and the screen flashes a new dialogue, Jinwoo doesn’t bother reading it. He already knows what it says. He flips on the ship intercom and calls the others to join them on the bridge as anxiety threatens to knock him to his knees. Jungsoo joins them on the bridge first, followed by Bin, Sanha, and Minhyuk last. Jinwoo keeps an arm wrapped around Myungjun’s waist, steeling himself for the uncomfortable possibilities. Things weren’t supposed to happen this way.

 

“Life support systems shut down five minutes ago.” Jinwoo swallows the lump in his throat. “We have enough oxygen stored for five hours, six if we’re lucky. The rebellion put their arrival at six hours from now.”

 

Sanha makes a noise, somewhere between a sob and a whine, and slaps a hand over his mouth. His other stays wrapped around Minhyuk’s.

 

“Take some time to be with each other.” Jinwoo grabs a handful of Myungjun’s shirt at his waist. “We’ll hand out the space suits in a few hours.”

 

Bin says nothing in the way of acknowledgement before he leaves the bridge. Jungsoo follows not long after.

 

“We’re going to be fine,” Minhyuk says to Sanha. He looks at Jinwoo. “Right?”

 

Jinwoo nods. “Absolutely. You two will be fine.”

 

Sanha wipes at his eyes, clearing away the silent tears he’s shed. Minhyuk tugs him off the bridge.

 

Alone again with Myungjun, Jinwoo hugs him. He squeezes his arms tight around Myungjun’s waist as he stares at the closet in the corner with only 3 space suits inside.

 

————

 

_ Dongmin, _

 

_ I’m sorry you’re having to find out this way. A foreign file was left in the computer systems of the  _ Ambition.  _ We believe Choi Hyunggeun, the director of Kyklos Research and Development Progress, is responsible, but we have no proof. By the time this reaches you, any hope of finding proof will likely be gone.  _

 

_ It is also likely that by the time this reaches you, you may believe I’m a traitor. The Syndicate will no doubt pay whoever it takes to add my name to the list of the most wanted criminals across the systems along with the names of my crew. If you ever loved me, I hope you will trust my words. The Kyklos Syndicate is destructive. You may think they are just another corporation that has spread themselves amongst the stars, but you would be wrong. They sit side by side with criminals, thieves and assassins. They imprison moons, Deimos and Charon and Helen and so many others, and force feed the people of these moons lies as they work endlessly towards producing whatever they see fit. And they pay money to the government leaders, to the officials who are meant to protect us, to keep them quiet. This is why I left Mars last. I cannot stay in one place when I know the cruelty of the Syndicate, and when these words find you, I can only hope you’ll believe them and try to do what I could not. _

 

_ Our ship is on its last legs. Power generation failed. Long distance communication failed. Our EHT and FTL systems are out of commission. And now, our life support is broken. In five hours, the air left on this ship will be too toxic to breathe, but my last thoughts won’t be of the Syndicate. My last thoughts won’t be of wishes to bring down the person that’s done this to me. My last thoughts will be of you.  _

 

_ I had half a mind to ask you to come with me when I left Mars, but now I’m glad I didn’t. I’m glad that you’ll be out there, somewhere among the stars, happy and alive. My only regret is that I never told you that I love you. I hope you’ll read these words whenever they reach you, whether that be in a week, a year, or twenty, and know that they are true until my last breath. I love you, Lee Dongmin, and I always will. _

 

_ Bin _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [@snibwrites on Twitter](https://twitter.com/snibwrites)

**Author's Note:**

> And we’re back withthe second part of the series! If you haven’t yet, make sure to check out vonseal’s chapter 1 here. Follow me on Twitter, too, because I post spoilers for this fic!


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